


All Roads Lead To Hell

by AlAngel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Darkness, Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlAngel/pseuds/AlAngel
Summary: Request: When you'll have some time, can you write a Azazel x reader ? The reader slept with Azazel and ran away because she felt ashamed. When she's in danger, Azazel finds her and suggests her to take the mark of cain. The reader doesn't understand why she changes she becomes close to Azazel: she needs someone to understand her. She doesn't like the sexual tension between them. She was tricked by Azazel even if he likes her in his own way





	All Roads Lead To Hell

Title: All roads lead to hell  
Pairing: Azazel x Reader  
Word Count: ~3.3k  
Warnings: angst, death, darkness  
Request: When you'll have some time, can you write a Azazel x reader ? The reader slept with Azazel and ran away because she felt ashamed. When she's in danger, Azazel finds her and suggests her to take the mark of cain. The reader doesn't understand why she changes she becomes close to Azazel: she needs someone to understand her. She doesn't like the sexual tension between them. She was tricked by Azazel even if he likes her in his own way  
A/n: This is me trying to give the reader some sort of more diverse personality. @mathbymoonlight introduced me to alignments and I used this fic to play with them . 3 scenes – three alignments. Watch the reader journey from chaotic good to chaotic neutral to well chaotic evil. Enjoy ^^  
…  
They always said when dying parts of your life would be flashing by in front of your eyes. But all you could see where dancing points of darkness, little freckles of black slowly connecting and turning more and more of your vision dark. As a hunter you knew you'd sooner or later find out what dying felt like, you only ever hoped it would be later.  
With the darkness embracing you the pain in your side seemed to ease at least. You would have never thought a demon would be the thing to get you, personally you always rooted for a vamp or werewolf. Must be karma biting you in the ass. Finally the first memory of your life shot by. It was a flash of yellow eyes and breathless moans. The smell of danger and arousal, mixed with the knowledge that you shouldn't do this. Forbidden things had always intrigued you, darkness had a nicer ring to it than light and so even though you felt weird about it you wouldn't regret sleeping with the ruler of hell.   
Why did you have to remember him of all people when dying? It had only been that one night that you gave in to the dangerous temptation and you had been gone before morning. Still you remembered every touch, every moment of passion.   
"You don't look so good, dear" Suddenly you heard a voice you remembered so clear, using a name only one man was allowed to call you. You willed your eyes to focus, fighting the dancing spots. Surprise and irritation filled you when your vision truly showed you the person you'd least expect to ever see again.  
"Who would have thought that it was one of mine that got you huh?" His voice was calm as his yellow eyes roamed over your bloody and beaten body. You wanted to snarl at him, sit up and teach him to not be an ass in your dying moments. But no matter how much you wanted it you couldn't will your body to move.  
"I'd offer a deal but we both know you would decline” His face was closer now, you could see every line and mark on his face though most of your attention was on his eyes. They had always fascinated you and to your own surprise you didn't mind dying looking at those eyes. At least you wouldn't be alone.  
"You're scared aren't you?" there was suddenly a softer tone in his voice and very distantly you could feel a hand on your cheek. The touch was light or you were already too far gone to feel much, you weren't sure "You don't want to go. You…"  
"Step away" Suddenly you were standing next to your body. Your vision was clear again as you stood there looking down at your bleeding form, Azazel crouched beside you his hand still lingering on your cheek. He was still looking at your face even though your eyes must have lost all their gleam before they shut. You couldn't make much out of his expression, it was guarded, calm and his jar clenched. For just a small moment you let yourself believe someone cared, he cared, that you just died. Then there was a hand on his shoulder, you followed up a pale arm to meet the face of a dark haired woman. Her voice was commanding and her face serious. "This hunter isn't your concern anymore. I'll take her where she belongs.”  
That changed his expression. There was a clear twinge of anger as he finally let go of your cheek to stand up to his full height. His gaze met ghost-yours for a brief second before he directed all his raging anger at the woman besides him. Even with the ruler of hell staring at her in pure rage she didn't seem fazed at all.  
"What gives you the right to command me?" He hissed "What right do you have to take something I'm here to take myself?"  
"You know what gives me the right, Azazel" She shrugged turning towards you "It's time to go, sweetheart." She extended a hand as she stepped around the raging demon. Her smile was kind and for a second you were tempted to just go. This must be what a reaper looked like - for someone who escorted souls she looked friendly enough.  
But before you could make any decision Azazel slapped her hand away. "I won't allow it. She should have a choice."  
"You can't offer her anything, demon" Your reaper finally unleashed her temper, turning away to burn her dark eyes into him "I'll take her where she belongs.”  
For a second Azazel’s gaze darkened even more. He knew she was right or at least you assumed he knew. What could he give you that she couldn't? He'd take you to hell, a place you'd rather not be. But with her she at least knew your place. If your reaper saw it fit for you to go to hell - you had killed, guilty as well as innocent, like every hunter had - at least it was rightfully.  
"I can offer a way for her to stay on earth" Suddenly there was a gleam in his eyes and he turned towards you "I can give you all of earth, dear. You don’t need to leave anything.”  
“(y/n), don’t listen” Your reaper was facing you again “You’re a hunter, you know who he is. It’s a lie. He can’t offer you anything but hell.”  
“I promise” The words left his lips quickly, all of you were taken aback by how sincere he sounded, how urgent “All it takes is a small mark on your arm. A small sign. And you can stay.” His eyes bored into yours, soft yellow mixed with what you assumed was the natural green of his vessels eyes “Stay here. Don’t let her take you to hell. I know hell. You don’t belong on the racks like an ordinary dark and twisted soul. All you ever did was be drawn to darkness and give in that one time with me…” He was pleading, studying your face before shaking his head in all seriousness “You didn’t think they let a woman who laid with the ruler of hell into heaven, did you? (Y/n), it’s my way or hell.”  
Fear went through your ghostly form, the sincerity of his voice scaring you even more than the experience of still seeing your own dead body on the ground. He was right. Heaven was a place for angels and good things. Had you been good? All the people you couldn’t safe rushed through your head, all the innocent people who died because you weren’t good enough, fast enough or sometimes wrong. You weren’t good. You weren’t made for heaven. Never before had you been so scared of dying than in that moment where you had to choose between hell or trusting the ruler of hell –And that was after your spirit had already left your body.  
“(Y/n)…” You reaper was about to protest but you had already made up your mind. You wouldn’t go to hell. Why not choosing the darker path once more? Heaven already was out of reach, might as well pick your own shade of the dark side.  
“You better not be lying, yellow eyes” You grumbled as you took a determined step towards him “Or I’ll kick your demon king ass, dead or undead.”  
“That’s the spirit” He smiled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to pull you in a tight embrace. Leaning into his touch, the warmth only something a living form could provide, you didn’t see the way his face spoke of relief while your reaper looked at him appalled. She knew protesting was pointless after a soul had chosen, but she couldn’t help pouring all her anger about what happened into one hate filled glance towards Azazel. He only smirked knowingly and dark, his other hand wrapping around your lower waist to pull you even close before both you disappeared into the night.  
…  
The mark of Cain. For the millionth time you stared down at the dark symbol on your arm. Distant memories of meeting a grey haired man with piercing blue eyes rushed back, but all of it was blurry and mixed with the oddly comforting feeling of Azazel’s hand on your shoulder and his promises that everything would be alright.  
He had lied. Surging anger disrupted your thoughts and you could feel your eyes flash black. He didn’t save you from hell he made your life a living one! Those black eyes were a simple, ever present proof of what his way out had done to you. You looked like a demon but you were so much worse. The anger, the rage, the need to kill you never experienced anything like it. It was constantly surging through your body. You had felt a slight tugging towards darkness before, nothing more than an inclination to consider the sometimes easier yet morally worse choice over the golden, good way. But now the tug towards darkness became more physical. There was excitement flooding your system whenever you did simple tasks as picking up a knife to slice some bread. The darkness in your mind was shifting, taking physical control. Again the eyes were the obvious proof of the darkness inside you.   
“Your eyes are flashing again, dear” Azazel’s mocking tone hit you low, the anger bubbling to the surface even more. You wanted to strangle him, straight out murder him, but he was also the only thing that kept you sane some days.  
“I hate you” You whispered the anger soon replaced by sadness and hurt “I wish I’d never met you.”  
“Don’t be like that” The stupid smirk just wouldn’t leave his face. He seemed to be constantly amused by your struggle. Some days you thought your painful struggle to at least pretend to still be more than a raging killing machine was the only reason he stopped by. You lived in the woods these days, alone. But like clockwork would Azazel turn up every day and he never stopped by without a snide comment or that insufferable smirk of his.  
“You chose me and my way. Though meeting you again on the racks downstairs would have been fun too” He mused “I might have tortured you myself till you gave in. After all that black in your eyes really suits you.”  
“Why did you even come?” you demanded, falling back onto the couch miserably and angry at the same time “Why couldn’t you stay away and let the reaper do her job? At least that way I’d only blame myself for choosing you once, not twice.”  
“I guess I wanted a final moment with the one woman who left me” His eyes met yours from where he was sitting on the other half of the sofa. There was that certain sparkle they always had when he looked at you. You could never quite pin down the emotion or intention linked to it, but you noticed it almost every day when he came to see you. There was the obvious mockery that was mirrored in his voice, but you also saw glimpses of interest, curiosity, lust and sometimes even a very un-demonic kindness.   
“Great” You huffed “So I’m in this mess because your ego got a crack? I hate demons.”  
“For the bearer of the mark of Cain your still complaining an awful lot” Azazel mused “Sometimes I wonder if it was worth the struggle saving you. But then again I remember how much more fun your soul is inside this beautiful body of yours…”  
His voice trailed off as his hand slowly crept up your tight. You shot him a glare as if to say really? But you also didn’t fight his wandering hand. That was the only perk of having a dark and twisted soul, you didn’t have to worry about damnation anymore. There was nothing left for you to lose despite the little illusion of humanity you were still hanging on to. And even the fight against your literal inner demon could be forgotten when you were instead fighting him.   
Right from the moment you started to bear the mark in Cain’s place you noticed the way Azazel looked at you with want. There had always been a chemistry between you two and you noticed how he was intend on acting on it. You, however, were reluctant. Sleeping with him, giving in, no actually wanting him had gotten you into this mess in the first place. You were so intent on ignoring the tension between you, but there was something about Azazel that drew you in. Something about the still unexplored darkness that you didn’t want to give in yourself, but that you could still feel surging through you when looking into his eyes too long. A feeling of electricity that only he could make you feel send sparks through your whole body and caused you to crave more.  
Once upon a time you had tried to deny it but that had been centuries ago. Now he was all you wanted some nights, the feeling of power when you were able to resist him and the darkness he implied just one more night gave you hope to stay at least on the neutral side. Fighting him kept your own inner fight away for only a few short hours. Wanting him was stronger than the urge to rage, to fight, to kill. He calmed you in the most unusual way.   
He made you okay with being neither good nor bad.  
…  
You dropped the blade you had been holding on to. Before your eyes the woman wasn't moving anymore. Her eyes were still open, green and pretty, staring lifeless at the ceiling while red liquid started to sip out of the wound in her chest where a knife had cut through her clothing. A knife, your knife. The sound of the demon killing knife you had been holding hitting the floor echoed loudly. The fresh bloody still clinging to the blade splattered around the floor, some even leaving small red dots on your shank. You didn’t hear the echo and didn’t feel the wet dots like rain on your skin, you simply looked at the dead body and tried to feel the regret you remembered. It might be there somewhere but you couldn't reach it. Like a word on the tip of your tongue that you were chasing; chasing although you knew it was long gone.   
"You really don't like demons do you?" An amused voice said from behind you. Azazel was standing right behind you with his hot breath teasing the skin on your neck. At least with him you felt something. He couldn't give you the spark of humanity you knew was gone but at least he made you feel anything but emptiness and blood lust.  
"Say, (y/n)" he placed a kiss on your neck "Why is it you like killing my female employees? I'm not complaining - if you can get them with that ridiculous knife you found they're not worth much anyway. But I am curious" This time his lips lingered a little longer on your skin "Is my dark, soulless dear jealous?"  
"I…" You didn't know what to say. You only remembered the strong need to kill her, you didn't know what caused it what had driven you to put your knife into a random demon that passed you in the halls of hell. But then again you also didn’t really care why you did it.   
"I'd say you are" Azazel whispered "Who would have thought that it took corrupting your soul to get you to want me."  
"I always want you" You said in the same whispered voice leaning back against him some more, feeling the familiar warmth of his body. You remembered how warmth equalled comfort for humans. Was that what you wanted from him, an anchor to your lost humanity?  
"I do like the sound of that" He purred, his hands pulling your hips back against his. He finally had you where he wanted you, where he had always wanted you. Willingly in his arms, not fighting him, not struggling to decide whether you’re more good or more evil. All he wanted from the one woman who dared leave him was to come back willing being his in every way.  
“Actually I think wouldn’t have cared either way” You replied letting your hand cup is face as you turned in his arms, your thumb was softly caressing the lines on his face. It was true, the face of the demon you just slaughtered was already vanishing from your memory though you were certain you had never seen nor heard about her before. She was no one to you. “I just know how fast you tire of a woman. Why not make myself useful while I’m around?”  
For a moment his face darkened, but not in rage. There were small lines on his forehead marking his confusion and irritation. His eyes were a darker shade of yellow as he held your hips still in his strong grip. He stood there studying you, his eyes intense and filled with an unreadable expression. You tried to get him to move again by pressing against his hold on your hips so they could meet his once more providing a friction that would surely get him out of his thoughts.  
“You changed” He said as his eyes never left you. A small, wolfish smile formed on your lips as you shook your head. The ruler of hell could be truly adorable when he for once took longer to catch up on something. You had admired his cunning and scheming mind but seeing this man now taken aback by the outcome of one of his plans caused you to almost pity him.  
“Of course I changed” Your voice was a soft purr as your hand moved along his face towards the first buttons of his shirt “I became what you made me.”   
You tugged on his shirt collar pulling him towards you. His lips were only inches from yours but his eyes still burned right into yours. Another playful smile curled your lips up as you looked at him. “You must have known that the mark would change me from the stupid girl I was into this. You put all this effort into tricking me, scaring me of hell so I’d go with you. And look where I am at last.” You chuckled as you brought on hand to his neck as the other stayed on his collar, slowing playing with the first button of his shirt. When your hand reached his neck you pulled him hard against your lips, a bruising kiss he returned after a heartbeat.   
By now both of you knew the other so well, every touch measured and practised a thousand times to cause the other to feel the most pleasure. You knew how he tasted in the morning, or after a fight with a rebellious demon or - your personal favourite - his taste when your own juices still lingered on his lips as he came up from between your legs. The kiss ended when your hand on his chest pushed him back a bit, only far enough so your deep black eyes could meet his but not far enough to let him out of reach.  
“I am in hell after all” You grinned wickedly “And its heaven”


End file.
